Only the Goode Spy Young
by 2plus2equals5
Summary: Only the Goode Spy Young: The story of Zach from his POV. Who is he? Where does he come from? And how the hell does he always manage to show up where Cammie is? Takes place right after the third book. Disclaimer: I don't own Gallahger Girls.
1. Chapter 1

Only the Goode Spy Young

Who is Zach? His background information is yet to be revealed. Takes place after third book at Blackthorne. What I think will happen in the fourth book in Zach POV. DISCLAIMER: I don't own rights to Gallagher girl series

**Zach POV**:

Chapter 1

_I am in the midst of a dense rain forest, where the line of reality and fantasy merges together with the mist. All around me are trees, tall, towering, and shadowy. I pull back several vines only to find a chameleon staring down at me. It smirks before its skin slowly turns into the pasty grey of the tree bark. I run after it._

_ Thousands of chameleons swing from different branches. They all smirk. MY SMIRK. Then they disappear. "Chameleon," I scream. I run faster and faster knowing that I have to reach her before it is too late. _

_ I stop. Staring down at me from the lowest branch is __**the**__ chameleon, my chameleon. _

_ "What Zach, tell me what you are that I am not?"_

_ "I'm someone who doesn't have anything to lose." Then she blends into the background just like all of the other chameleons._

I opened my eyes, thoughts whirling through my mind. Sure, I still "have" my father, but what good(e) was he. There are two types of fathers in the world: the caring ones that will go to the end of the world to save their child, and then the types like mine, the ones who wouldn't have known if it was my birthday unless I showed up at their doorstop waving a gun, "Happy birthday to me dad, thanks for bringing this lump of misery into the world." Except most of those types of dads weren't evil, scheming, lets take over the world conspirators that belonged to the most wanted organizations in the world (on the top ten list right before alcada) a.k.a. the Circle of Cavan.

"Dude, we are going to be late for class," Jonas said frantically trying to finish his extra credit homework due next week. "With all of those classes you skipped your grade is only an A-, man! You are never been this close to being at Grant level.

"Hey, man! I can hear you! Just cuz I'm half-asleep from staying up all night doing my paper doesn't mean I'm deaf!" Grant remarks from his half made bed.

"You mean the paper that was due last week?" I smirked, happy to be back with my crazy, delusional, roommates that could drive the world insane. "Besides there are more important things than acing school."

"Yeah, like _Cammie_." Grant mocked.

_Beep_. I looked down at the small screen of my phone.

**C is going to London**

"Yeah, actually like Cammie," I retort. "Catch ya guys later, tell Dr. Steve that I am still recovering from that excellent case of mono."

"More like heart break," Grant snorts

The key to a successful infiltration is discretion and a good cover.

I needed one last final touch, my shades. I flipped out my dad's old CIA ID and said "Agent Carter. I'm with the Secret Service and I'm here to check out the McHenry plane." The idiot of a guard nodded, used to this exchange. I walked in and climbed aboard. I walked into the control room, looked at the joysticks and buttons and said to myself, "This is better than Jonas' video games."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Roseville's sultry air was a nice contrast to the Blackthorne environment. I sat on the runway, watching two girls. One with dark brown hair almost the color of coffee, and had dark tanned skin. The other had dirty blonde hair with amber highlights and eyes the color of sapphire. They boarded the plane, followed by the one man at this school I didn't want to run into. Solomon. Joe Solomon.

"I can't believe someone had the nerve to steal the McHenry plane. The security on that plane itself is incredible." Cammie rants.

"Yeah, it had state of the art security system with motion activated lasers, smoke bombs, automatic lockdown…" Bex begins. Bex would probably be surprised how much easier going through the front than muscling her way through the back was.

Solomon interrupts, "Not here. You never know who could be listening," and looks straight at me. "I'm going to go check with the pilot to make sure he understands where we are going." Cammie and Bex nod.

"I'm so excited to go to London." Cammie muttered.

"Yeah, and maybe you'll even run into Zach again." Bex said. With that I can't help but smirk.

Solomon just shakes his head as he approached the pilot cabin. "How did you know Cammie was coming to London?"

"Spy." I smirked.

"You know it's not your responsibility to watch over her."

"No, you are right, it's her dad's. But is he going to do anything for her?"

"I thought we promised never to talk about what happened to Chris."

"You should tell her. She deserves to know."

Solomon seemed to pause considering the idea before stating, "Are you sure you know how to fly this thing?"

"Rule number 1 of spying. Never hesitate." I start up the engines again and the plane roars to life. "Next stop, London."

While safely in the air I risk checking on how Cammie and Bex are enjoying their flight. Much to my amusement - no doubt what would be their horror if they knew – they spent the majority of the flight trying to analyze my actions and what it meant for our relationship. Solomon attempted to switch the conversation several times but somehow it always came back to me.

"If Zach wasn't there to try to protect Macy, then why did he come and follow me all the way to Boston and Philadelphia?" Now if Cameron would use a little bit of that intuition so necessary for a good spy, she would piece two and two together. But she did know. She was just being a girl and refusing to say it.

"He must like you. Really, really like you."

"Yeah, it's almost a little stalkerish. But in a very cute stalkerish way." I had to bite down on my lip really hard that time to grimace.

"Ladies, I'd like to offer you some refreshments. Would you care for a drink?"

"You are a guy," Cammie remarked sweetly.

"An astute observation." I said.

"If you were a guy…"

"Didn't we just establish I'm a guy?" I think to myself.

"and you followed a girl, after you gave her the most amazing kiss and then just walked away, would it be because you liked her or for some other guy reason I can't think of?"

"Well, if I were a guy, not saying that I am not, I probably wouldn't be wasting so much time following a girl that I didn't love. Unless I knew something about that girl and I needed to protect her. But even still, I doubt i would go to such lengths if I didn't really like her." I rambled, losing my normal aloof attitude.

I heard quiet laughter. I looked over and saw Joe Solomon laughing his head off. I contemplate the possibility he told them, no, he wouldn't. The plane suddenly hits a pocket of air.

"Sorry, ladies, I must return to piloting the plane now. No worries, we just hit a pocket of air."

I dash off to pilot cabin and I notice Solomon discreetly checking that there is indeed a parachute under his seat. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Joe.

"You know, Cammie, I just thought of a great plan to get Zach to admit his feelings. You have to make him jealous."

"You are right. Now that I think about it, the pilot is pretty cute. How old do you think he is?"

I purposely let the plane hit another air pocket. "Ouch," said Cammie rubbing her head.

"The pilot should do a better job flying the plane," Solomon yelled.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Hey, Mr. uhh…"

"Carter, Christopher Carter,"

"Hey, Christopher, remember our conversation on the plane? I really need some help with my boy problems and I was wondering if you could help me out. You see, could you pose as my boyfriend? Because that boy I was telling you about, he going to be here. I just have that gut feeling. And when he sees…"

"That you are dating another boy he will be jealous? Oldest trick in the book. Look, I don't know much about this boyfriend of yours but he sounds pretty well connected. I don't want to cause any troubles between you guys."

"Oh, well that's okay… I guess I'll just have to ask someone else."

Cammie going out with another guy? I didn't really care much for Jimmy. One doofus was enough thank you very much. "On second thought, you seem like a really nice girl, I'll help you out. You don't know these Londoners like I do."

"Oh, great, here is my number." Cammie wrote something on my hand.

Mr. Solomon appeared from behind the plane carrying the luggage. Bex and her parents followed behind him. "Thank you very much Mr. Carter. I think you have done your job and can go home now," he said rather coldly.

"Call me," Cammie calls out waving her hand goodbye.  
I look down at the number that she scrawled on my hand and the noticed a small slip of white paper sticking out from my pant pocket. Leave Ms. Morgan alone.

There was no signature, no name, no identifying mark. I was only hoping this was sent from Solomon as a fatherly warning, but I doubted it.

I called her, my hand only wavering for a moment whether or not this was actually a good idea. Then that moment of weakness passed and I dialed the number.

"Hello," Cammie's cheerful voice rings out from the other line.

"Hi Cammie, it's Chris. Remember the pilot that flew you here today?"

There was a pause. Most likely Cammie signaling to Bex to secretly tap the phone line so she could listen in to.

"Wow, I never thought you'd call. So you really don't have to go through a lot of trouble or anything. Nothing fancy. Just a dinner date where we will appear to have an intimate conversation as if you were my boyfriend." Well the second part sounded pretty good.

"Where do you want to go? I know London pretty well since I fly to here a lot."

"Uhh…" I guessed that her plans weren't this far reaching in the future. How on earth did she pass Solomon's last think before you act pop quiz. "I'm staying in Kensington Square, do you know any good restaurants around there?"

"What are you in the mood for? There is Giraffe which is world cuisine."

"That sounds great." Cammie said quickly. Mr. Solomon must have been coming her way. "Look I have to go now so…"

"Are you sure this is okay with your chaperone and all? I don't want you to sneak out or anything." I could just imagine Cammie's expression as she went through her usual I'm a spy but I can't tell anyone so now I am freaking out.

"Don't worry. It is totally cool with Mr. Solomon." It was a lie if I ever heard one.

"All right. I will pick you up at seven. Where are you staying again?"

"Could we just meet at the restaurant at seven. I really have to go now. Bye."

The line clicked. I hated to be the responsible good kid but if it involved Cammie… back up would always come in handy. Mr. Solomon was no force to take for granted.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

As a general rule, it is nearly impossible to surprise a well seasoned operative like Mr. Solomon. As another general rule, nothing that is a general rule applies to me. I could have always just called Mr. Solomon since I have his number, but the chances that the Circle of Cavan could have tapped my line were high. Besides what would be the fun in that? After all they knew I was at the airport. I would have to go to him in person.

Finding Solomon's room at the Baxter's house was surprisingly easy. So much so that I was rather alarmed at the lack of security. I mean the Baxters are pretty high up when it comes to the British secret service. Their house should have been a little harder to break into.

I sat in a tree, bored by watching yet another bird get incinerated by the motion activated lasers. Of course, it happened so fast that no one else would have noticed unless they were watching the field of lasers extremely closely. Camera's watched from every angle of the house. A security guard paced back and forth in front of the gate, which I knew if you tried to climb – well let's just say it wouldn't be pretty.

At first I was going to sneak in via the laser field. I mean how fun would that have been. The obstacle course at Blackthorne had nothing on this one. This one made it look like it should have belonged at Gallahger. But then I thought better of it. How on earth was I going to explain to Cammie why my eyebrows were singed off? I stuck my head in the engine by mistake? Besides Solomon would have known. It was too obvious and too difficult.

Anyway, something much better caught my eye. Right to the left of the garden shed there was a little control box. A box that I was sure controlled more than the porch lights. But the only real obstacle (okay there was a guard that probably was more there for the show than the action) was those lasers.

You see, the thing with outdoor lasers is they were programmed to recognize the difference between living creatures and inanimate objects. People figured that much out after Ivanna Dahli (the inventor of the laser beam) installed the first one and the next day it rained. As you can guess the lasers went haywire and became a very useful self destruction mechanism. Ivanna sadly didn't live to modify her project. I don't actually understand the exact science of how the lasers distinguish people from rain – I leave that to Jonas to explain – but all I know is it has something to do with electrical currents.

* * *

The bell jingled as I walked in, toys were stacked high and low on all the shelves around me. The dolls stared right at me as I walked down the cramped and musty aisles. I walked to the back of the store where I found two small boys admiring toy airplanes.

"Hey, can I ask you two a question?" I started

"Okay, shoot mister." The little boy on the left said.

"My little brother really wants a remote control airplane for his birthday" I lied, "and I don't know which type is the best. I was wondering which one can fly through obstacle courses the best because Tommy, my brother, loves making courses for them to fly through. Once he tried to make his plane fly through the stair rails. That's how it broke."

"Oh! That's an easy one." The boy on the right said

"The Megatech MTF893 firefly." The boy on the left continued

"It can fly in any direction. Even backwards! And not only that, it can shoot up to eight mini missiles," finished the boy on the right. I wondered if he was one of those kids on those advertisements on T.V.

"Thanks."

Soon the distinct sound of the bell jingling went off again and I was off to the Baxters again. I surveyed the lasers and started the plane. I tested it out, making it go in loops and swerving left and right. I pushed the joystick forward making the plane lurch into the laser course. Then my thumb pushed it right, then left, then up, then down, then right again.

The control box on the outside of the shed was locked. To the right of box was a keypad to enter in a four digit password. If I were a Baxter what would I make my key code?

I first tried Bex's birthday. I didn't need to hack into the Gallagher database for this one. Grant already did that for me. It was March 24th. I shot the missiles from the plane at the digits 0324 and it didn't work. Shoot! (**AN: I couldn't help it. Pun intended)** I only had one more try. I tried the day the Baxters met. September 10th. I shot my last missiles at 0910 and prayed to the gods. It turns out that I was right. The door of the control box turned opened. I rammed the plane into the button and the lasers and all of the other security measures turned off. I walked straight in and picked up the plane. The nose was slightly bent. Oh well, it was only $9.95. I walked through the big blue doors leading into the Baxter's house.

Solomon's room still retained the neatness that was drilled into every Blackthorne Boy's head. There were no personal items lying around that could possibly have given away anything about his identity. The bed was neatly made and there was absolutely nothing out of place. I almost didn't want to breathe because I could have disturbed the orderliness of the dust.

I found Solomon's jacket hanging up in the closet. Into one of the pockets I slipped a note:

COC Spotted miða. Chameleon vilja borða með gírafa kvöld.

-Z

(translation for those of you who don't speak Icelandic: COC spotted target. Chameleon will eat at Giraffe tonight.)

Well, once I was in the house, I couldn't resist taking a peek elsewhere. Cammie's room was up to par of the typical Gallagher neatness. In other words, I couldn't believe the effectiveness provided by the numerous pairs of shoes that girl owned as an obstacle course. Or the fact she didn't bother cleaning up her hot pink bra off the radiator. I guess someone had to do the house cleaning, I thought as I slipped a hot pink souvenir in my pocket.

On my way out I turned the security back on and left the Baxter household as if nothing happened. Suddenly, the shadows beneath the trees seemed to be a little too dense, and I realized that I wasn't the only unwelcome visitor to the Baxter house.

**Sorry I forgot the disclaimer…. Here it is: I do not own the Gallagher girls (although I wish I did). There I said it. How did you guys like the new chapter? ****R&R**

**AN: ****In case you didn't realize, Ivanna Dahli is not a real person. I have no clue who invented the first lasers.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Giraffe was unusually crowded for a Thursday evening. The glasses clinked, knocking droplets of beer into the air and the hearty laughter of Londoners filled the room. On my way in I caught sight of Solomon, chatting nonchalantly with a woman I've never seen before. The nerves kick in. I don't know if I am feeling nervous because the COC is obviously somewhere in London with us or because this is probably the first real date I've taken Cammie on. No the second reason couldn't be possible. I'm Zach Goode after all.

I scanned the room for Cammie, guessing that she would already be there since it was 7:02 and Gallagher's girls were notorious for the timeliness. At least that was what I gathered from my stay at their lovely school.

As I suspected, I spotted her back to me, yes that would be her exposed back, not the cloth-covered version you would expect during winter. She was wearing a backless black dress, which I have to admit complimented her curves quite nicely.

"Hi, Cammie," I said sitting down at the table. She seemed to be a little startled, but very quickly caught her composure. So quickly, I probably wouldn't have noticed, had I not been trained.

"Oh, Christopher, it's so good to see you again. I really have missed you over these past few days."

"Haven't we just met?"

Cammie smiled fakely, "You are so funny. But even spending a moment with you, I feel like I've known you for a thousand years."

I personally thought Cammie was laying it on a little thick, but I would have to guess that would be from her lack of experience and the lack of personal relationship advisor, Macey.

"So do you think that boyfriend of yours, don't think you ever mentioned his name to me…"

"Zach."

"Yeah, do you think Zach is here?"

"I know he is here."

"How do you know?"

"Because I just know." I noticed her hand fingering where a bra strap should have been, as if she was remembering something.

"This whole thing is so mysterious. It's almost as if..."

"As if what?" Cammie demanded.

"I feel like your romance is almost from one of those weird spy novels. Everything is so secretive." Cammie turned slightly red around the ears, but to my disappointment she had become a little better at hiding the whole, I'm a teenage spy thing and I can't tell anyone.

"You know, this guy sounds a little weird. What do you see in him anyway?" I asked raising an eyebrow and contemplating whether or not this would be worth tape recording to send to Grant.

Cammie paused to consider, "Well it all started a year ago when I first met him. Our schools were doing an exchange. Let's just say that he is hot and it all goes downhill from there."

"What do you mean by downhill from there?"

Cammie now turned a shade of red that probably hasn't been seen by mankind before.

"Sorry if I am making you uncomfortable, you don't have to answer."

"No, look, it was nice of you to go on this date with me. I should explain my situation a little better. Zach gave me the most amazing kiss on the last day of the exchange. Even to this day, every time I walk by that spot, I still remember the feeling of his lips pressed against mine," _Score 1 Zach, Score 0 Grant. _"But ever since then we've only seen each other a couple of times. Sometimes I think he wants to kiss me again and other times he looks at me as if I am nothing more than a fling to him. I can't figure him out. I just want to know if he likes me or not."

"Wow, it must be pretty bad if you are confessing all of this to a random stranger."

"Well, you know when I first said I felt like even spending just one minute together, I know you already, I really meant it. There is just something so…"

"Trustworthy?"

"Familiar." I smirked at that. They always say that it is a weakness to show emotions. "Just now, when you smirked, it was exactly how Zach smirked."

"Uncanny. Maybe you fall for guys that like to smirk." I smirked again. Cammie blushed.

"So you seemed rather preoccupied about whether this guy likes you or not. But the better question is do you like him?"

"I don't know. I think I do." I have to admit at this point I was expecting a total confession of love. Note to self: delete this part from tape recording. "I mean, I thought I really liked this other guy, Josh and then he came along and…"

"Turned your whole world upside down?"

"You could say that." Cammie simply said. God, girls can be so confusing. I wish I had a Macey translator too.

"Excuse me, but could I take your order now?" The waiter in one of those swanky suits came over. The service in this place really could have done with some improvement.

"She'll have the chicken and I'll have the steak," I handed the menus over to the waiter. He impatiently grabbed them from me, with his fleshy left hand. A left hand adorned with an all too familiar ring.

"Shit. I have to go. It's an emergency. Aunt Panama came to visit."

"What?"

"Never mind. It's a girl thing." Cammie leaped up from her seat and grabbed her purse. She was halfway out the door when I caught up with her.

Putting a hand on her shoulder, as if to pull her back, I said, "Cammie, I don't…"

She spun around faster than I last remembered her reflexes to be. Almost about to deliver one of the "forbidden" moves to a very sensitive area, she suddenly stopped. "Zach?" She contemplated whether or not to actually continue with that kick. I saw Solomon getting up out of the corner of my eye and several of the staff of the restaurant focus their attention on me.

"On second thought, we should get the hell out of here, Gallagher Girl." I grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the door, as several tranquilizer darts pierced the air where we were standing seconds before. We dashed out onto the chilly London streets. Cars zoom by as we ran through traffic. I thought we had put enough distance between ourselves and the Circle of Caravan infiltrated restaurant.

"Zach, they're here. They're here. How do they always know where I am?" Cammie was still holding onto my arm, her face was completely white. Gallagher may have taught them well on how to throw punches, but running away from danger was an entirely foreign topic.

"Because they're spies, and they're good."

"I thought I would be safe here. I'm with the Baxters. I'm with Solomon. I'm not safe anywhere am I?"

I hear a sound that wasn't the wind on the empty London street. I should have picked a busier area to stop. "Shut up," Cammie looked upset. I turned around.

"If it isn't little ole Zachy. Or do you prefer to be called Goode? What an ironic name." A man, one of the selected few that got to wait on my father's hand and feet personally, walked casually toward us, laughing to himself. "There is no point in running Zachy," He said completely reading my mind. "There is no escape."

"Long time no see. Unfortunately it hasn't been long enough. Well, please give my father regards and have a nice evening."

"Zachy has been such a bad little boy. Your father would be so proud of you. All he wants is you to come home." Cammie was giving me a confused look. I ignored her. The man walked closer.

I could smell his damp breath. It was a sign that he was too close. I lunged forward to give him a good sock in the eye, but instead he catches my hand and holds up a gun. "Both of you get into the van, now." I didn't take a genius to figure out what to do next. I went peacefully into the van like a goode little boy. Cammie followed suit. At the last moment possible as he was shoving me into the van, I elbowed him hard in the neck and simultaneously slammed his wrist (with the gun) into the car door.

"Run, Cammie." Cammie hestitated. Two gunshots went off, luckily completely off target. I grappled to try to knock the gun from his hand. "Rule number 1: Don't hesitate. Run you idiot." She ran. That's the last thing I remember.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The room I woke up in was not, sadly to say, one of those prisons, desolate of all furniture save a meager tin pan for relief and if the jailer was generous, a cot. I had no doubt these cells existed, most likely in the sub levels beneath the sub levels of this building, tucked away like catacombs under the earth. Even if a prisoner did manage to escape, they would eternally be wandering the passages of the cold labyrinth, walking by the same spot for the tenth time and thinking vaguely to himself that this looks familiar. Hell, if you woke up in the room I was in, you would probably think you died and went to heaven.

There was a huge flat screen TV in one corner, with an X-Box, and all of Jonas's favorite games. In another corner there was a Jacuzzi and instead of the hard cot stuffed with iron fillings was a giant water bed. Along another wall were a completely stocked bar and a mini fridge. In the middle of the room there was a pool table, which I would have considered as a dangerous thing to leave a spy with, seeing the numerous ways the various implements used to play pool could doubly function as a weapon. But this just goes to show how confident the Circle of Cavan was that I couldn't escape. This sort of attitude was no surprise. I guessed a long time ago that it must have run in the family. Especially when people who knew my dad before he turned gave me sad, almost pained expressions when I smirked. Their faces said that I reminded them of him, in the worst possible way. That I had that same kernel of recklessness that was my dad's fatal flaw.

For a while I entertained myself using the X-Box. There were no windows in the room, so I previously I was forced to try to escape through the door. I had tried every single method of lock-picking taught at Blackthorne, which had earned me bruised knuckles, a television that no longer received signal (I needed to borrow some parts), and no open door. I even tried the Grant method of opening doors, (a.k.a. ramming them head on, although I would like to point out I did not use my head as to avoid concussion) which resulted in the destruction of several pieces of furniture. Serves my lousy father right anyway. I also knew there were camera's hidden, but I didn't bother trying to find them. I didn't have anything to hide.

The door opened, while I was in the middle of virtually almost conquering the world. I tried chucking the controller at the man's head, and then launching in a surprise attack, but I have to admit, overall it was a pretty feeble attempt. The man caught the controller without blinking and the instant I tried to kick him, spun me to the floor. The door closed. Escape plan #1 = fail.

"The standards at Blackthorne really have fallen since my day. A Gallagher girl could probably beat you up." A good spy doesn't fall for bating. Well I'm not a good spy, I'm a goode spy. I got up and tried to punch him. He blocked me, feigned a yawn and simultaneously thwarted by second attempt to knock him to the floor.

"Is this any way to greet your father that you haven't seen in a long time?"

"Like father, like son."

"Yes, I suppose the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." I glared at him and try to sock him again. The next thing I know, I am pinned to the wall with a stinging pain in stomach.

"Please don't tell me the only reason I am here is for a family reunion."

"Why, can't a father even have one peaceful conversation with his son?"

"If by peaceful conversation, you mean to persuade me to join, the answer is no. I don't want to join your stupid organization."

"What makes you think that the COC would even want you?"

"I'm still alive."

"True," he smiled demonically and lets me go. "Zachary, you have grown a lot since I last saw you."

"Will you cut the fatherly love crap already."

"So what do you want me to talk about?" I didn't answer. "Miss Morgan, perhaps?"

There was silence. "You really do like her, don't you? You know, if you want, I could tell you her exact coordinates right now. I can tell you what she is doing, what she ate for breakfast, what her friend Bex is wearing…"

"Okay, I get the point. I'm not the only one stalking her. Please just assure me you aren't following her around because you have a crush on her too. Not that I'm afraid of competition or anything."

My father laughed. "No, Miss Morgan is useful to us for other purposes."

"Something related to her father's disappearance?"

"How much do you even know about his disappearance anyway?"

"Enough to make guesses. Guesses that perhaps now only Cammie will be able to access certain information. Information that you want to remain unopened."

"I take it back about Blackthorne. They have been teaching you something there. Or maybe not. Correct me if I am wrong, but you do have a legendary truancy record."

"Since when have you become the disciplinarian? You manufacture nuclear weapons, arrange assassinations, and blackmail the world's most powerful people for a living."

"It's all a slippery slope Zachary. Sometimes the boundaries between what is wrong and right get blurred. There is no such thing as good and evil, there are only winners and losers."

"I'm not exactly sure taking life advice from you is a trustworthy source."

"Am I not a successful man?"

"Do you define success by body count? If so, then by all means, you are the equivalent of Bill Gates." The whole time this conversation had been going on, my father had been racking up the table. At this moment, he shot the cue into the triangle, and watched as several of his balls immediately sunk into the pocket.

"If you are going to shoot, then you might as well shoot hard." He said, handing the pool stick to me. I proceeded to crack it in half against the table.

"Are you just going to keep me here indefinitely so that when you kill off all your little co-conspirators, you'll still have me to fulfill your social needs? Or am I just here because this is some strange way you are trying to relieve the fatherly guilt of abandoning your three year old son. By himself."

"Don't worry. I won't need you for long. Your purpose will soon become clear." My father said, straightening himself up and heading toward the door. If I could jam the lock, then maybe I could get the door open once he leaves. He opened the door and once again I leap up as if to attack him, but I won't matter if my kicks even make contact, as long as I can distract him to stick something in the lock. That's why the headache was worth it, after he of course blocked me and flipped me to the floor once again.

"Zachary, just remember how much that girl talks about you. Love is a two way street." I sat up. I heard another click. I opened the door whose lock I jammed, and to my dismay found another door behind it. "Damn." I kicked it. Of course escaping the COC wouldn't be this easy. Only an evil maniacal scheming spy would think to put two doors to my "prison." What did my father even mean about two way streets any way. And then it hit me. Cammie wouldn't be that stupid. Except she was.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Gallagher Girls. Or Zach.

A.N. So please review it if you like it or if you hate it (but if you do it's okay to pretend you love it)– I'm open to suggestions

Do people think I've kept Zach in character? What about Cammie?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I needed to be calm and I needed to be careful if I ever wanted to escape. I removed all the bugs around the room I could find, and destroyed them (by stomping on them really hard). Then I grabbed all of the coke cans I could find in the mini fridge (they totaled around twenty) and all of the batteries from the various electronical sources. I immersed the hinges and lock of the door with the coke, and broke apart the batteries. I took the battery acid from the batteries and smeared them onto the hinges. Then I waited. And waited. And waited.

I would just like to point out to my mad chemistry teacher (a.k.a. Dr. Fuller who happens to be a distant relative of Einstein), that yes this is proof I have been paying attention throughout all the classes (even the ones I haven't been there for.) And all of those tests that I've aced much to his disbelief, have been well earned perfects. I mean, if you can steal the answers at a spy school, you have to be pretty good(e). And right about now, I should be feeling pretty darn satisfied with myself, except, NOTHING WAS HAPPENING.

After thirty three hours and twenty nine minutes, I began to reconsider destroying my gaming system. Was this really the best move strategically? And all of that coke gone to waste – I've been forced to turn to water. Plain water. I felt like I was living in a real jail cell (minus the Jacuzzi and the waterbed of course.)

I was forced to turn to a plan B. Clearly trying to break away from the COC by force would be a mistake. They were stronger and more powerful and force would only leave me with another headache.

I needed a better plan, but for some reason my usually Zach is winging it plan's wouldn't come to me.

"You idiot, that is never going to work," There were voices outside my door. I leapt up, broken pool stick in one hand. Crash. Dust made me blink several times. I must be seeing things.

"What did I tell you Bex, the Grant method always works." Grant said, flexing a muscle, and swaying slightly side to side from the impact.

"That was probably the stupidest way to open a door I have ever heard of. You probably would have had some serious brain damage had the hinges not already been partially corroded by an acid of some sort." Jonas muttered, shaking his head and observing the damage.

"Woah, dude, too much science." I was speechless. My roommates couldn't be here. Bex couldn't be here. And Cammie…

"Zach, are you okay? Did the Circle of Cavan do anything to you?"

"They must have conducted some sort of experiment on him because his oral capabilities seem to be nonfunctional. Perhaps they…" Liz stammered off.

"They stuck little chips into my brain to test whether or not I'm an actual human being or an alien from mars. No you idiots, I'm just surprised to see all of you here."

"You could be a little bit more grateful, since we are rescuing you." Bex snorted.

"You shouldn't have come. Why on earth would you ever bring Cammie if the COC is trying to kill her off? I mean you practically just delivered her to their front door."

"Woah. First of all no one brought me here. Believe it or not I came on my own will because I thought you needed help. But seeing as you have it all under control Blackthorne boy, we might as well be leaving." Cammie snapped. I blinked. She is really hot when she gets angry.

"Maybe if you thought things out before you tried doing stupid things, you would realize how stupid they are. How many times are you planning on getting lucky?" That one must have hit home. Cammie turned away to leave.

"Jeez, are you sure those two haven't been going out all this time? They sure do bicker like a married couple." Liz said.

"Perhaps, we can wait until we get out to argue some more." Jonas pleaded.

"It won't matter. The COC knows you're here. Whether we live or die entirely depends on them. Look, even with all your co-ops missions, and your tests, fake obstacle courses, etc. All of those are geared for spies in training. The COC has been around for hundreds of years and has never been infiltrated, not even by the world's top organizations. They are that good. So if you think a bunch of teenagers can just sneak in here because they have enough skills and enough talent, think again."

"So are you suggesting we just wait around until they come and find us and surround us with taser guns. At least we are going to put up a fight." Bex said. Grant nodded in agreement.

"I'm just saying it won't matter either way."

"Zach, right now, you are being a real jerk." Grant said. Ouch. That hurt a lot coming from him.

"Shh… there are heat sources rapidly approaching us," Liz said, staring down at some little device in her hand. Jonas ran over to double check. Everyone else strained their ears to try to here footsteps. I rolled my eyes.

"Let me see that," I snatched the device away from Liz. Something was off about the little red blotches. They were too little. "Either these are pygmy people coming to attack us or…" I grabbed my broken pool stick and swung backwards. It hit something.

To this day, I'm not exactly sure how the COC members got into our room. I've always felt frustrated at myself for not being able to find the other entrance to my jail cell. All I knew was the next moment the six of us were surrounded by several people that could have replaced Jackie Chan if they wanted a career on the big screen.

Cammie was the next to recover. She grabbed a napotine patch from her pocket and tried to slap it on her attacker. I heard a shattering of broken glass behind me, followed by the strong stench of vodka and an "Oopsy daisy." Meanwhile Grant attempted to bowl over his and Bex's attackers, even though Bex wasn't the one who needed saving. I'm not exactly sure what Jonas was doing, but all I can say was there was a lot of smoke.

Too much smoke. There was another "Oopsy daisy," amongst all the coughing, but this time it was Jonas who said it, not Liz. I got down on my hands and knees, trying to stay below the fumes. Cammie was spluttering. I gestured for her to follow me. We crawled to the exit. Then I bumped into something. Something that stood on two legs and reacted with a kick when I touched him. "Mr. Solomon?" Cammie called, "It's us."

He didn't say anything to us when we left the room full of smoke. Outside the secret COC headquarters was swarming with CIA agents. Liz, Bex, Grant, and Jonas were all lined up against a wall, looking a little sheepish. A very stern looking Mrs. Morgan patrolled the lines, as if she were examining each and every one of the members of the rescue crew to make sure they weren't hiding anything. It was enough to make Grant have a look of sheer horror on his face, the kind of look he gets when he realized that Jonas has been reading his secret stash of playboy magazines beneath his pillow.

"We have Mr. Goode," said Solomon over the intercoms unit. There was a fuzzy response back.

The rescue troop was lead in silence out of the COC building. To my shock, from the outside it appeared to be a normal office building in the middle of London. A van was parked outside, with a driver that I most definitely didn't want to talk to right now, Dr. Stevens.

"I hope, Mr. Goode, that you have recovered from your mononucleosis."

I smirked, "And I hope that you Dr. Stevens, have recovered from your temporary blindness."

"We were quite aware that you were not present on campus for a fair amount of this semester."

"But you were not quite aware where I was then?"

"Your absences will be taken into account when the school board decides whether or not to invite you back next year."

"I go to a school to learn how to be a spy. I'm only spending my time trying to enrich my education to the utmost fullest it can be. Where better to learn to be a spy than in the real world?"

"I do not appreciate your tone."

"Well, seeing as I'm not sucking up to your ass, I suppose that you wouldn't appreciate it." I thought to myself. "Did the CIA catch any members of the COC?"

"That is restricted information."

"Fine, is Cammie's life still in danger?"

Dr. Steven refused to answer, instead it was Joe Solomon. "Yes." From then on, I didn't care which of my dad's henchman had gotten caught. I only knew that he was still out there.

Disclaimer: Obviously don't own Gallahger Girls


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"If you dare tell Dr. Stevens that I snuck out tonight, I will tell everyone that you Grant Newman slept with a pink stuffed bunny rabbit until you were thirteen years old."

"But I have never slept with a stuffed animal? What are you talking about?" Grant asked, confused.

"Well, who do you think people are going to believe? Me or you?"

"Zach, you just got busted. Stop acting like you are the big man on campus." Jonas groaned, barely looking up from his molecular biology textbook. (we actually haven't taken that course yet – this is what he considers as light reading)

"What do you think we go to a school for – saints? I'm just doing what spies do. Sneak around, tell a few lies here and there."

"Go on illicit secret dates… meet your girlfriend from the balcony of her room… whisper secrets beneath the starlight." Grant continued dreamy eyed. "But I am totally over Bex."

"Yeah, I just need to talk to Cammie." I smiled weakly.

Jonas snorted. "I am sick of covering for you. This better be the last time. And if Dr. Stevens questions us, I'm going to tell him the truth."

I would threaten Jonas with the I'm going to tell everyone you still sleep with a pink furry stuffed animal too, but the unfortunate part of that plan is he does. And everyone already knows. "Jonas, if you dare tell Dr. Stevens that I'm not in my room, I'll tell everyone that on the last test you only scored a 98.5." I didn't really expect this to merit any actual fear, but who knew that Jonas's eyes could become so big and saucer like. And that when he is scared he whimpers like a puppy.

I didn't actually need to meet Cammie tonight. Despite what my roommates think – I have much better people to sneak out and meet. Like Solomon, Joe Solomon.

"Zach, you really need to stop talking out loud. Now everyone knows your secret plan that you weren't really going to sneak out and see Cammie." Grant points out in what people now call a "duh" tone.

"Grant, do you really think that Zach would confess his plans to us? He is probably going to see Cammie and is trying to make himself be more… more… manly. He is just embarrassed by the fact that Zachy Wachy wants to see his little girlfriend." Jonas remarks without even looking up from his book.

"Pshh, no." I say desperately clinging onto what's left of my "I love my girlfriend Cammie, with all my heart" cover. For once I'm glad I have such love-sick roommates.

I arranged for a secret meeting with Joe Solomon, so secret that even Joe didn't know it was going to happen. Apparently the night that I chose, happened to coincide with another one of those pop uber- realistic co-ops missions where the girls have to break into a "high security" warehouse to retrieve a disc (okay, I would just like to point out – who actually puts all of their important information on one disc and hides it in a warehouse installed with lasers, cameras, the whole shibang?)

Judging from the state of the warehouse, almost all of the security measures had already been set up. I ducked through the laser field, slid down the conveniently located ventilation ducts, and reminisced how much this test reminded me of a bad spy movie. Joe was in the middle, more or less, of the fortress, in the control room. He was monitoring the twenty or so girls on the surveillance camera's while simultaneously activating the next obstacle the girls had to overcome.

"Boo!" Solomon didn't flinch. Damn, that man was good. One of these days I swear I will make him jump. He calmly told the guards over the intercom that the girls had broken into the southwest chamber and then flipped another switch.

"Hey, is this a bad time? I can come back in a few minutes." Solomon was now busy programming something into the computer.

"Goode, why are you here?"

"I am here to get my A, you see, I need a little bit of extra credit since I've gotten into a little trouble with the board of Trustees back at Blackthorne."

Solomon turned around. "No, I meant aren't you supposed to be in lockdown?"

"You can't lockdown a spy."

"You mean a lover."

"What, why does everybody think I am so in love with Cammie. She is just a girl, granted, a very nice good looking girl but…"

"You said on the plane yourself that you wouldn't go to such lengths to protect a girl that you didn't truly love."

"You can't have a normal conversation with a spy – can you? They always remember the most embarrassing things you say."

"Goode, why are you here?"

I paused slightly before I answered. "When I was captured by the COC, my father mentioned that he needed Cammie for something. Something related to her father's disappearance."

"That is classified information."

"Well if it wasn't classified, then it isn't worth knowing. What does the COC want with Cammie?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Why shouldn't you?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you are a reckless teenage boy who constantly breaks out of school, can't follow directions, and at the rate he is going will end up no better off that Mr. Morgan."

"Tell me because I have access to information that nobody else in the CIA has, because I am the son of the head of the COC, because only I can protect Cammie."

Solomon sighed. "I was hoping the probation would lower your ego but it seems to have to adverse effect. I am going to tell you one thing, and then you will leave. Do you understand, Mr. Goode."

"Clear as Mudd."

"Before Agent Morgan went missing, he left behind one source containing all of his information about the COC he had gathered thus far. It is unknown where that information is hidden. It is only known that the one person who can access it is Cameron Morgan."

"When you say the only person who can access it is Cammie, do you mean because the information is locked away with a lock that uses her DNA or she was given a locket of some sort that is a key..."

"I told you I was going to tell you one thing and then you were going to leave. What didn't you understand about that?"

"I understood the whole message, but you see, that's the funny thing about understanding. A person can understand something completely, but it doesn't mean that they are necessarily going to follow up on it."

"Zach. I mean in some way or other Cameron Morgan is the key. That is all I know. Now, get out."

"Very well then, Solomon. Thanks for the tip. In return, I just want to let you know that the Anna Fetterman is hiding in the ventilation ducts again. See you soon."

"I honestly hope not."

**Disclaimer: Don't own Gallagher Girls. Really.**


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